Quotes
Quotes about Sorrow
Who goeth a borrowing
Goeth a sorrowing.
Full little knowest thou that hast not tride,
What hell it is in suing long to bide:
To loose good dayes, that might be better spent;
To wast long nights in pensive discontent;
To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow;
To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow.
. . . . . . . . .
To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares;
To eate thy heart through comfortlesse dispaires;
To fawne, to crowche, to waite, to ride, to ronne,
To spend, to give, to want, to be undonne.
Unhappie wight, borne to desastrous end,
That doth his life in so long tendance spend!
I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
For grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop.
Here I and sorrows sit;
Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.
'T is better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perked up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.
Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.
Doct. Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.
Macb. Cure her of that.
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd,
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?
Doct. Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
Macb. Throw physic to the dogs: I 'll none of it.
A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions.
Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow,
Thy element's below.
Patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest.
Do not drop in for an after-loss.
Ah, do not, when my heart hath'scap'd this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purpos'd overthrow.
'T is all men's office to speak patience
To those that wring under the load of sorrow,
But no man's virtue nor sufficiency
To be so moral when he shall endure
The like himself.
Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow!
Hang sorrow! care 'll kill a cat.
Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan,
Sorrow calls no time that's gone;
Violets plucked, the sweetest rain
Makes not fresh nor grow again.
Drink to-day, and drown all sorrow;
You shall perhaps not do 't to-morrow.
To these crocodile tears they will add sobs, fiery sighs, and sorrowful countenance.
Hang sorrow! care will kill a cat,
And therefore let's be merry.
This house is to be let for life or years;
Her rent is sorrow, and her income tears.
Cupid, 't has long stood void; her bills make known,
She must be dearly let, or let alone.
Since knowledge is but sorrow's spy,
It is not safe to know.
Days that need borrow
No part of their good morrow
From a fore-spent night of sorrow.
Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave.
In ev'ry sorrowing soul I pour'd delight,
And poverty stood smiling in my sight.
